


History

by NoahTN98



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Cullen Rutherford, Blow Jobs, Bottom Cullen Rutherford, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dorian Pavus is a Good Friend, Drunk Sex, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, First Dates, Head of Department Dorian, Heavy PTSD section, Isabela and Dorian are best friends, Josephine/Leliana mention, M/M, One Night Stands, Rough Sex, Rutting, Top Dorian Pavus, Vomiting, emotional Cullen, emotional Dorian, minor PTSD mention, or so they think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-03-28 16:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13907757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoahTN98/pseuds/NoahTN98
Summary: Dorian Pavus, a classics professor, and regular drinker meets Cullen Rutherford, a handsome man in the nightclub, who turned down everyone that had propositioned him, up until Dorian. A night of drunken sex leads to a surprisingly relaxed morning, with promises of meeting again when they're free and sober. But just when they meet again, surprises them both.*** INDEFINITELY ON HOLD ***





	1. Chapter 1

Dorian could spot him a mile away. Even without the skittish behaviour and, quite frankly, bordering on awful dancing, Dorian could spot the man he wanted to go home with tonight. In truth, he had been watching the man for some time now. He wanted to see how many men would proposition him, and how many men would be turned down. So far, all of them. A grand total of seven men had asked and been denied. Even over the music, Dorian could hear their disappointment. He wondered, perhaps, if the man had a type. None that approached the man had been quite as pretty, well-mannered, and gentle as Dorian, he believed, and therefore decided to try his luck. 

He waited until the man made his way over to the bar, and took up a space beside him. When the man ordered a drink, he cut in over him. “Make that two, please.” He said to the barman, and paid for both drinks, turning to face the man. Up close, Dorian could trace the definitions of his face, and wondered what it would be like to run his fingers over that jaw. “Hello. I’m Dorian. Nice to meet you.” 

“I’m Cullen.” The man said back. Nice name, Dorian thought. He liked that name. 

“Come here often?” Dorian tilts his head. He could tell, personally, that Cullen was inexperienced with places like this. Coming in and refusing every offer you get wasn’t a regular occurrence.

“This is my second time, actually.” Cullen shifts, turning to face Dorian, one arm leaning on the bar. “I came here the first time with a friend, she insisted it would be good for me. I suppose she was right. People in here seem to like me.” 

“That they do.” Dorian smiles and picks up the drink when it’s placed down. “Want to sit somewhere a little more comfortable?”

“Sure.” Cullen smiles, picking his drink up as well, following Dorian across the dancefloor to the seating area. He sits down next to the man, sipping some of his drink, placing it down on the small table in front of them. 

“I noticed you earlier this evening.” Dorian says, watching Cullen. “Some of the men that approached you seemed to make you uncomfortable. They weren’t rude, were they?”

“I just tried to explain to them that they weren’t the sort of thing I’m looking for. They didn’t take it too kindly, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.” Cullen shrugs. 

“What  _ are  _ you looking for?” 

“Someone interesting. Someone I can have conversations, and do things with, without getting bored.” Cullen looks Dorian up and down. “And physically, they weren’t my type, either.” 

“Just what is your physical type?” Dorian’s eyebrow quirks, taking his time to slowly admire the man. He didn’t seem to be going anywhere, after all. Dorian just needed to be polite, and approach topics slowly. However, Dorian loses his composure with the next sentence to leave Cullen’s mouth. 

“Someone like  _ you _ .” 

“Excuse me?” Dorian stares at Cullen for a long moment, wondering just how much he had had to drink. He knew the answer, though, and that was ‘not a lot’. Perhaps Cullen was a lightweight.

“Someone like you, that’s my type.” 

Dorian lets out a small laugh. “I’m not quite sure I understand.”

“Someone who radiates confidence, knows what they’re doing and owns it, brightens up every room that they’re in.” Cullen says, and leans close, whispering into Dorian’s ear. “Someone so good looking, you immediately wonder what they would look like under all of their clothes.” 

Dorian swallows, shifting in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. Men had been that forward with him before, yes. Just as he had been that forward with other men before. But never had those words turned him on so quickly. He blamed it on the drink. Drink, and the straightforwardness of this man that had turned down every man that had spoken to him before Dorian. Composing himself, despite the heat in his cheeks, Dorian smirks. “Perhaps later this evening, you can find out what I look like under all of these clothes.” He purrs back, and deliberately moves his legs apart to show Cullen what his words had done to him, picking up his drink and swallowing down more as he crosses his other leg over. 

Despite the lights in the club, Dorian could see the blush on Cullen’s cheeks, the man’s eyes transfixed on Dorian’s crotch. Cullen shifts in his seat, and lifts his gaze, met with a smirk. “Shall we… Dance a bit?” The man asks, swallowing. 

“Oh, I suppose we could do that.” Dorian drolls, holding out his hand as Cullen stands, following the man onto the dancefloor. Cullen leads Dorian to a space with room enough for them both, and slowly allows himself to move to the beat of the music, closing his eyes when he begins to enjoy himself. Dorian chuckles lightly, taking some time to watch the other man, warming up to the music and dancing with Cullen. 

Their movements to the music separate them, then bring them together, Cullen having opened his eyes. They were almost joined at the hip, close as possible to each other, each twist and turn, each step and slide almost like a challenge. A futile fight for dominance, and it was clear to both of them that they would end up in bed with each other by the end of this. Cullen’s hands rest loosely on Dorian’s hips, the hold allowing Dorian to sway and move with ease, pulling the man’s hips to his own. It doesn’t take long, half an hour at most and several more drinks, before Dorian’s wrapping his hand around Cullen’s wrist and pulling him towards the door and onto the street. 

Dorian was still impossibly hard in his trousers, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, especially leaning against this man that seemed to want Dorian just as much as Dorian wanted him. “Let’s go to your place.” Dorian grins, and follows the man to a taxi, both of them stumbling inside. Dorian gives Cullen just enough time to tell the driver where to take them, before he leans over and claims the man’s lips with his own. Even drunk, the man’s lips were soft, Dorian’s tongue skilled enough to make even the most stubborn of men like Cullen part their lips for him and allow him access. A laugh comes from both of them at Cullen’s slight groan, pulling back from each other, Dorian’s hand resting on Cullen’s thigh, and venturing high enough to confirm the other man’s arousal. Their touches remain light for the majority of the journey, much to the approval of the driver, who makes little effort to converse with them in their drunken, giggling states. The taxi rounds a corner, and Cullen puts his hand on Dorian’s thigh, squeezing slightly. Dorian turns his head to meet the man’s gaze, and hums when he leans over to kiss at Dorian’s neck. 

When the taxi comes to a halt, the driver quickly handles the exchange of payment and change, and the men stand on the pavement as Cullen makes an effort to find his fob key. “I live on the...I live on the second floor. We’ll go in the lift. I’ll fall on my face if we use the stairs.” He pulls Dorian into the building, and to the lift, pressing the button for the second floor. As soon as the doors close, Cullen is pressed against Dorian, rolling their hips together and catching him in a somewhat sloppy kiss. “Maker, I would have you here if that was a choice.” Cullen groans lightly, pulling Dorian back out of the lift as it opens, and to the door of his flat. 

Dorian grunts when his back hits the door as it closes, the heat of the other man pressed against him once more. His hand slides into the other man’s hair when he makes to kiss his throat, gripping, hips rolling into the hand Cullen had placed against his length. There is fumbling as shoes are removed, shirts are opened - or lost in the darkness of the room in Cullen’s case - and trousers are dropped. A hand wraps around Dorian’s length, and then the wet heat of Cullen’s mouth engulfs him, hands pressing flat against the door. Dorian gasps, biting his lip, dropping his head back with a thud, not caring for the slight twinge of pain on contact. Cullen’s tongue works his tip, his hips pushing forwards, a hand coming to grip the man’s hair, gasping out his words. “Do you have any condoms?”

An affirmative grunt from the man on his knees. Cullen presses his tongue flat against the length of the man, dragging his mouth and moving his head slower as he makes an effort to take as much of Dorian as he can into his mouth. The tip of his nose meets with coarse hairs, and Cullen pauses, taking a moment to inhale all that is Dorian. Maker, the man smelled good.

“Can we move to the bedroom? Fuck-” Dorian groans. “I’ll cum too early if you carry on like this.” 

Cullen pulls back, licking his lips, standing level with the man. He flicks the light on, pushing Dorian’s shirt off his shoulders, leading Dorian through to his bedroom. They stumble into the room, kissing, edging towards the bed and toppling onto it. Dorian finds himself under Cullen, who was yet to remove his trousers, naturally parting his legs for the man as he slots himself between them. Cullen stares at Dorian, more admiration than anything else, and takes the hint when Dorian’s hands come down to fiddle with his belt. His trousers are removed, and dropped down the side of his bed, his underwear stained with pre-cum. Cullen rolls his hips down, his length brushing over Dorian’s, drawing gasped moans from both men. He works quickly to pull his underwear off, reaching into his drawers for lube and a condom, gripping the drawers tightly when Dorian’s hand wraps around him. 

Dorian grins as he causes the man to lose composure, working Cullen’s length in his hand, running his thumb over the tip of his cock. A hand presses down on the pillow next to his head as Cullen struggles to remove his grip from the drawers, Dorian giving the man some leeway to move back safely onto the bed. Once the condom and lube are down, Dorian resumes his attentions, licking his lips at both the sight and feel of how large the other man was. Cullen’s head drops down, his mouth level with Dorian’s ear, groaning softly into it. Before long, however, Cullen is moving Dorian’s hand away and fumbling for the lube, pouring some onto his fingers. 

“Tell me if I hurt you…” Cullen says softly, rubbing a lubed finger against Dorian’s entrance, carefully pressing it into him. The moan he draws from the man sends shivers down his spine, his hips rolling instinctively against Dorian’s thigh, leaving a small wet trail on his skin. He waits for any sign of discomfort, moving his finger slowly when he sees none, moving back onto his knees so it’s easier. His eyes fix on the man under him, the way his hair was slowly becoming a mess with his writhing, biting his lip. Maker, this man was attractive, and he wanted nothing more than to be inside him right now. A second finger is added, then a third some time after, opening Dorian carefully. When Dorian’s breathing becomes heavier, and his head turns to look at him, Cullen smirks and removes his fingers. “You ready?”

A nod.

Cullen fumbles with the condom, opening it, rolling it onto his length. His eyes meet Dorian’s, who had been watching him roll the condom on, licking his lips as Dorian rolls onto his stomach, pushing his ass into the air and looking over his shoulder. He holds himself in hand, his free hand gripping Dorian’s ass, pressing the tip of his cock against his entrance and pushing slowly into him. Even in his drunken state, Cullen finds the resistance that Dorian’s body gives him delightful, a long groan vibrating in his chest. Once seated inside the man, his head drops forward, looking at how Dorian’s ass pressed flush up against him. “Maker… Can I move?”

“Please do.” Dorian whimpers, his hands gripping the pillows, the side of his face visible over his shoulder. He gasps and groans loudly as Cullen starts to move, his pace slow, but each thrust relentless. He turns his head, burying his face in the pillow, each movement of Cullen’s hips making his legs shake and his back curve. He feels a hand trace his spine, and grip his shoulder, and slowly pull him away from the pillow. 

“I want to hear you.”

Dorian allows himself to be pulled up onto all fours, his hands grappling for purchase on the headboard. His knuckles lighten with his grip, his head dropped between his arms, the noises spilling from him only increasing in volume as Cullen increases his pace. The hand on his shoulder slides back down his spine, pausing at his hip, fingertips digging into the skin and bruising it. After a moment, he feels the hand reaching round to grip his shaft, grip firm enough for the touch to be arousing, but not firm enough to hurt him. A stroke, then another, Cullen’s hand moves at a pace vastly slower than his hips, and Dorian is reeling at the sensation.

Cullen grins as Dorian pushes back against him, admiring the way the man’s back arches, mixed noises of skin slapping skin and Dorian’s moans filling his ears. He pauses for just a moment, changing the angle of his hips before Dorian has the chance to whine, thrusting hard into the man. Dorian gasps, panted moans passing his lips, almost losing the grip he had on the bed. A whine, a long groan and  _ Kaffas, do that again _ tells Cullen he had found that spot inside Dorian. Cullen pulls back, and snaps his hips forwards again, keeping the angle to hit the same spot. The hand wrapped around Dorian becomes sticky, a small amount warm spill covering his fingers. Dorian was close, and Cullen was desperate to make the man cum. 

“ _ Fasta Vass _ …” Dorian groans. “Cullen, I’m…” He manages, the air knocked from him again when Cullen snaps his hips. The hand on his hips moves, and tangles into his hair, tugging in just the right way. Dorian groans at the tug, deliberately showing some resistance, not letting Cullen get his way just yet. But the hand in his hair tugs again, and Dorian can do nothing but push his hips back and beg for more.

“Fuck…” Cullen is panting now, his hips refusing to give the other man time to catch his breath, each thrust harder than the last until he can go no harder. The hand tangled in Dorian’s hair pulls the man’s head back, exposing his throat, each swallowed groan and gasp for breath now visible. It doesn’t take long until he hears Dorian whimper, and feels the man stiffen, hot seed covering his hand and the bed in spurts. A moan and an unintelligible string of words pass Dorian’s lips, Cullen’s hips slowing, the pressure around his length pulling him over the edge. His hand releases Dorian’s hair, gripping his shoulder to hold himself up, his head dropping as he cums. “Dorian…”

Cullen’s legs shake, shivers running up his spine as he comes down from his orgasm, pulling himself out of Dorian. His fingers, the ones not currently covered in sweat and cum, remove the condom and put it into the bin. He shifts back as Dorian’s arms give way, the man falling face first into the pillows. “You can lay on your back, if you move a little to the right. You’ll end up with your own cum on your back otherwise.” He pats the man’s ass, and gets up, fetching tissue from the bathroom to clean Dorian’s mess. He returns to find Dorian on his back, a hand wandering idly over his own skin, the other on the pillow above his head, his eyes closed. He uses the tissue to clean the mess as best he can, smiling at the hum from Dorian when he cleans the man, disposing of the tissue. 

“Best fuck I’ve had in awhile.” Dorian comments, moving when Cullen tugs at the covers, slipping under them with him. 

“First fuck I’ve had in awhile.” Cullen comments in return, closing his eyes, unphased by the man cuddling up to him. Perhaps Dorian was a cuddler - most of the women he’d had one night stands with were - and that was okay with him. What he had said registers with himself a moment later, and he snorts. “I meant with a man, anyway.” 

Dorian hums, his head rested on Cullen’s shoulder. It was clear the man was no longer paying attention, given that it takes mere moments for the man to fall asleep, Cullen joining him not too soon after. 

***

The next day begins with Cullen sliding out of bed, and finding some loose pyjama bottoms to put on. He couldn’t remember much of the previous night, only that he brought home the man currently sleeping in his bed. Best not to wake him, he thought, and made his way through to his kitchen to begin on breakfast. He didn’t know what the man would eat, if he would eat at all, but he knew that he had never had any complaints about his fried breakfasts.

He flicks the radio on low, humming along, listening for signs of life in the flat. Halfway through frying the bacon, he hears a soft padding, Dorian was awake. “There are some spare bottoms in my second drawer, Dorian. You can put them on if you would rather not get dressed, yet. I’m making breakfast.” He calls through, his breath catching in his throat when he turns to find Dorian in the pyjama shirt he had tossed on the bed earlier. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Dorian says through a yawn, his hand coming up to run his fingers through his hair. “Would you like me to put those bottoms on, still?” 

Cullen blinks, his words failing him momentarily, clearing his throat. “I think it would be best if you did. Wouldn’t want anything important to be burned by the plate.” 

Dorian chuckles, and disappears, then returns with the bottoms on as well. “I must say, I didn’t think you would be such a wonderful host.” He quips. “Most people have asked me to leave by now.”

“I wouldn’t want you to go home hungry.” Cullen smiles, plating the food. “Besides, it’s not as though I have anything planned today. You’re more than welcome to stay for a while, and then I can call you a taxi home.” 

“I shan’t stay too long. I have work tomorrow, and there are some things I must organise beforehand, but thank you.” Dorian takes the plate offered to him, and joins Cullen in the small living space, relaxing. “How’s your head? You didn’t drink a lot, last night, but you certainly seem to be a lightweight.” 

Cullen laughs, shaking his head. “I’m fine. A small headache, but some paracetamol, water, and plenty of food should ease it off. How’s yours?”

“Oh, perfect. I make an effort to drink as often as I can. Usually, I only get Saturdays to drink a lot, but I do enjoy a glass of wine in the evening before bed.” He smiles, humming softly as he eats. 

The pair sit in a comfortable silence, watching the TV, setting plates on the coffee table when they finish their food. Cullen was surprised at the lack of awkwardness between them, and Dorian was surprised that Cullen hadn’t asked him to leave. The trouble with one-offs, Dorian found, was that they could often be unpredictable. Some left him wondering about them for months, especially if he had been particularly sober during their tryst, but others were forgotten easily. Cullen would be one that Dorian would think about, long after their evening, and he knew that. He was also one that Dorian didn’t want to let go, but his thought pattern was interrupted by the other man’s voice. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? You seem… Everywhere and nowhere at all.” There was concern on Cullen’s face, and Dorian turned to face him, looking at him properly for the first time this morning. His hair had curled - Dorian was certain it was straight the previous evening - and he couldn’t take his eyes off it. 

“Yes, yes of course.” Dorian smiles. “I was just thinking about how… Maybe we could meet up again. Sober, this time. I’d like to get to know you better.” He glances around the man’s flat, what little decoration he had seemed exotic, perhaps he was well-travelled. “You seem an interesting person. Especially with all of those books over there.” He gestures to the bookshelf against the far wall, a soft laugh coming from the man next to him. 

“I assure, you, that’s not all of them. I still have a few in some boxes, but I need a bigger shelf before I can put any more away.” He leans forward, picking his phone up from the table. “But I think I’d like to take you up on your idea of meeting again. Put your number in my phone, and I’ll text you later so that you have mine, as well. I like small coffee shops, if you need any ideas. But I’m content with going anywhere of your choosing.” Cullen hands Dorian his phone, and picks up the plate, taking them into the kitchen to clean them.

Dorian stares at the phone in his hand, typing his number, listing himself simply as ‘Dorian’, and placing the phone back down on the table. Since when had asking another on a date been as simple as that? He wondered if perhaps Cullen didn’t get the idea of what he was asking, though the hinting at a meeting place suggested otherwise. He took his time to look around again, standing from his seat and walking over to the shelves. A lot of books here were on military history, very factual books, with a few fiction books scattered here and there. Organised precisely by surname, dusted regularly. The man was as conscious about his books as he was. He makes his way around the small living space, some framed pictures containing Cullen and others whom he presumed to be the man’s siblings - The women looked far too much like him to be any previous lovers, after all. One that stands out to him is a picture of Cullen in uniform, military uniform. Was he a soldier? That would explain the scar bisecting his lip. He places the photograph down as Cullen comes back through, smiling at him. “My apologies for snooping. I was simply curious.”

“That’s quite alright.” Cullen laughs, picking up his phone, running through his contacts and spotting Dorian’s name. He sends a simple ‘Hello’ to the phone, and raises his eyebrow when he hears the vibration come from near the front door, remembering where they left Dorian’s trousers the previous evening. “At least you don’t have to worry about whether or not it’s lost.” 

Dorian picks his trousers up, grabbing his phone, saving Cullen’s number. “That’s true.” He clears his throat. “As… Wonderful as it would be to stay, I should really be getting home now, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, let me phone a taxi for you. Go ahead and get dressed, I think the rest of your clothes are… Around here somewhere.” 

***

The taxi arrives some time later, Dorian dressed and confident that he had remembered everything he came out with. Cullen follows him down the stairs, he had insisted on giving Dorian the money to pay for the taxi, despite how many times he had refused. 

“It was wonderful meeting you, Dorian.” Cullen says at the main door, his hand holding the man’s wrist lightly, keeping him there just a moment longer. “I’ll see you again soon, yes?”

“Of course. I’ll let you know when I’m free, and we can organise something around that.”

“Excellent.” Cullen pulls Dorian to him, and presses a kiss to his lips. “Enjoy the rest of your day. Let me know when you get home.” 

Dorian clears his throat, his cheeks heating, simply nodding at the man. As much as he wished he didn’t have to leave, he needed to ensure he had everything prepared for his 9AM lecture tomorrow. “See you soon.” He said as he left, getting into the taxi, looking at Cullen through the window until the man was no longer in sight. 

Just how long it would be until Dorian saw the man again, he wasn’t sure. 

But he hoped it would be soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Dorian meet again, in probably the most awkward of ways. But now they have a decision to make, how far are they going to take their relationship, or will they let their new status as 'co-workers' get in the way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the 3 week gap! College coursework, and life have been getting in the way, and will continue to do so as I move on to my FMP and preparations for University. Thank you for being patient, and enjoy!

Dorian set the papers down on the small coffee table in the staff room as he arrived. There was an hour still before his class was due to begin, today’s lecture was on aspects of the Empire of Ancient Tevinter, and how it’s spread impacted the development of modern Thedas. There was also an optional language lesson in Tevene at lunch, for those students who wished to further their knowledge. He’d taken on a lot more students since Felix left the university, but a lot had opted to switch courses to Military History. The new professor was arriving today, and so Principal Lavellan had called an informal staff meeting. Placing his papers into his bag once he was sure everything was in check, Dorian leans back on the chair, glancing over to the doorway when the Principal clears her throat. His eyes widen at the sight of the man stood next to her, the man she was introducing as the new Military History professor.

“Everyone, this is Cullen Rutherford. He is the new professor on this campus, and I hope all of you will make him feel welcome.” Lavellan smiles, gesturing for Cullen to go further into the room. “This is his first teaching job, and since he will be working in your department, Dorian, I would like it if you could show him to the lecture halls.”

Dorian swallows as he stands, shaking hands with Cullen when the man walks over and offers it. “Hello, Professor Rutherford. If you’d like to follow me, I can show you to our department.” He gathers his belongings, resting his bag over his shoulder, and gestures the man to follow him. He was desperately fighting the rising heat in his body, his cheeks already warm at the memories of their night together, a bodily reaction to such thoughts would be completely inappropriate right now, and Dorian would very much like to keep his job. “I would have assumed Ellana would show you where to go. It’s not like her to slack in such places.”

“She did.” Cullen follows after Dorian. “However, as large as this place is, I seem to have forgotten exactly where it is. I’m surprised I didn’t see you on the day she initially showed me the campus.”

“That’s perfectly understandable. A lot of my first years still get lost during the second semester.” Dorian clears his throat. “I must have been unwell. The Fereldan winters are murder on my immune system. So… You teach military history, do you?”

“Yes.” Cullen shifts his bag, his right hand gripping the strap. “I got my PhD last year. I served for almost a decade before that, but I would prefer not to speak about that.”

“That would explain the picture in your living space. I must say, you’re rather dashing in uniform.” Dorian glances at the man, who didn’t appear the same confident person he bedded just a few nights before. “I’m free, after this lecture, if you wish to spend some time with me.”

“Really?”

“We need to make our intentions clear. We can’t pretend it didn’t happen, especially since we’re working together now.” Dorian pauses outside the lecture hall. “Are you teaching right now?”

“No. My first lecture is at ten, Ellana said she would rather I didn’t take a 9AM just yet, she doesn’t think I’m ready to deal with the students that have to be awake that early.” He chuckles. “Why?”

“Would you like to sit in? Just so you can get a feel of what the students can be like?”

“Not so you can show off your teaching prowess?” Cullen teases. “I would like that, actually. I’ve always been interested in ancient Tevinter. Not something I’ve had the chance to study in depth, though.”

Dorian chuckles. “Excellent. Do follow me, then.”

Having guided Cullen to a seat in a fairly remote area of the lecture hall, Dorian makes his way down the steps and to the lectern, settling his papers in place and turning the small microphone on. The lecture hall was small, but large enough to require sound assistance at the best of times, despite how well Dorian projected his voice.

Cullen watches as students settle into their seats, withdraw paper, laptops, and other writing materials from their bags, paying no attention to the man - who clearly wasn’t a student - sitting in their lecture with only a pen and paper in front of him. He was fully intent on learning as much as he could in this lecture, not only to impress Dorian, but to further his own understanding of the empire in which this man seemed to hail. If there were ever to be a chance in forming a friendship, or perhaps even a relationship, Cullen wanted to be able to hold conversations about things other than his own field, or chess. Despite Dorian having not told Cullen exactly where he was from, the Tevinter accent, and surname, were enough to go by.

Dorian clears his throat, and takes a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket, gathering the attention of his students. “Our lecture today will focus primarily on Ancient Tevinter, and Darinius the Ferryman.” He turns the projector on, flicking to the first slide, many details on the man’s rule noted across the screen. His gaze travels the room, pausing momentarily on Cullen, who was writing enthusiastically, something he didn’t expect. Dorian guides the class through the events of Darinius’ rule, the successes of his attempts to join the kingdoms of Tevinter and Neromenian under his rule, and securing trade between the dwarves and Tevinter. Each time he looks up, Cullen is writing, and each time he catches the man’s gaze, his enthusiasm radiates so clearly. His lecture draws to an end at 9:50, dismissing the students, informing them that their homework this week was to gather as much information as they could on the Ancient Tevinter Empire.

Cullen slips his paper into his bag, making his way down to the lectern, smiling at Dorian. “That was a truly fascinating lesson, Dorian. There’s still so much I don’t know about your field, even with the field I teach. Military history never delved that far into Tevinter.” Cullen’s enthusiasm was now prominent in his words, something that made Dorian smile, even as he tidied up. “If I have the chance, I’d like to sit in on your lectures again, or… Perhaps we could arrange something else? If you’re still up to it, of course.”

“I wouldn’t say no to meeting with you for a chat.” Dorian hums, moving away from the lectern to allow Cullen to set up. “What time do you finish today?”

“Four thirty.” Cullen places his lecture papers down, trying to make sure that he had them in order, ignoring the swelling anxiety at the prospect of taking his first class.

“Excellent. That’s when I’m due to finish, as well. So, shall we go to this wonderful café I know? I’ll pay, it’s my treat. Then we can discuss… Other things that need to be sorted, as well.” Dorian smiles and pats the man lightly on the arm. “Your students are going to adore you, Cullen. Don’t fret.” He glances at the schedule on top of Cullen’s stack of papers. “Your first class is third years?”

“Yes.” Cullen sighs, adjusting his composure as students begin to fill the hall.

“Then you’ll be fine. It could be worse, your first class could be first years.” Dorian hums. “I should let you be. Good luck.” Dorian dismisses himself, turning back briefly at the top of the steps when Cullen begins to teach, then leaving.

***

The day comes to an eventual end, Cullen now sat at his desk in his office, running his fingers through his hair. A knock at his door gains his attention, and he lifts his head as the door opens, Dorian allowing himself in. “Oh, Dorian. Hello. I… Maker, give me a moment, and then we can go.”

“I’m in no rush, Cullen.” Dorian closes the door behind himself, making his way over, sitting in the chair across from Cullen’s desk. “So, how was your first day?”

“It was a lot more than I expected it to be.” Cullen slowly tidies up his desk, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair, and resting his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, it was very enjoyable. There are a few first years that I can see potential in, a lot of enthusiasm for the subject. But I have a feeling that there are others who are only there because they believe it’s an easy subject to study.”

“You’ll get a lot of those, unfortunately.” Dorian follows as Cullen leads the way out of his office, the man locking the door behind them both. “It’ll show in their coursework, though I’ve no doubt you’ll be impressed with some of the final year dissertations you’ll read next semester.”

“I’m more than ready for that.” Cullen smiles, now following Dorian as they make their way off campus with intent to go to the café. “I remember writing my own dissertations. There was a peculiar man in my class who only ever went by the name of Anders. His dissertation focused largely on how he believed the military was oppressive, and has been since it was established, more particularly the Templar regiment. I… Didn’t get on very well with him, as you can probably imagine.” Cullen laughs lightly, and shakes his head. “He went overboard with his ideas, then disappeared. Nobody has seen or heard from him for several years.”

“You’re used to crazy, then?” Dorian nudges him lightly with his shoulder. “At least you’ll be able to handle the more… complicated students.”

“That doesn’t sound particularly reassuring.” Cullen laughs again, and nudges Dorian back. “I may just ask for assistance whenever I come across them.”

“Oh, oh no, they’re your students. I refuse to allow you to get me involved.”

“Too late.” Cullen smirks, and shakes his head. “No, I would never do that. I can handle myself. Speaking of which, Ellana mentioned that she’s having someone watch in on my lectures tomorrow to ensure that I’m settling in alright, and the students aren’t giving me problems.”

“Don’t fret. You’ll likely have Ms. Montilyet sit in. She handles admin issues, pastoral care for students and Professors alike, and the such. Lovely woman, very strict when she needs to be, and you’ll never find her without Leliana. The two are inseparable.” Dorian holds open the door to the small café, raising his eyebrow at Cullen as he frowns at the sign.

“Siren’s call? That’s an unusual name for a café.” Cullen looks to Dorian, who laughs lightly.

“The owners fancy themselves pirates. Lovely couple, very flirtatious, Garrett more so than Isabela.” Dorian gestures for Cullen to go inside. “Anyway, what would you like? I’ll pay.”

“Are you sure?” Cullen hesitates for a moment, catching the gentleness in the other man’s gaze.

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t offer if I weren’t.” Dorian picks up the drinks menu, browsing it, despite already knowing what he was ordering. “It’s on me. You can buy the next one.”

Cullen blinks, caught momentarily off guard. “I… Yes, of course.” He clears his throat. “I’ll probably just have a milkshake.” He leans over to glance at the menu Dorian was currently hoarding. “Chocolate milkshake.”

“Interesting choice given how cold it is outside.” Dorian teases, setting the menu aside, glancing around for the waitress, grinning when she comes over.

“Dorian.” The waitress grins at Dorian, neglecting to pull out a pen and paper. “The usual?” She shifts her gaze to the man sat across from Dorian. “Oh, a pretty one this time. Who’s this?”

“Of course.” Dorian hums, and glances at Cullen. “Isabela, this is Cullen. Cullen, this is Isabela. Be nice to him, he’s my co-worker now.”

“Sure. Co-worker.” Her grin never falters. “What’ll you have, sweet thing?”

“I…” Cullen clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, fingers brushing briefly at the back of his neck before he catches himself. “A milkshake. Please. Chocolate.”

“Of course.” Her grin changes to a smile, her hand resting on Dorian’s for a moment. All Cullen could see was the expression on Dorian’s face, one that told of promises and kindness, a flicker of his moustache and a smile seemingly sending her away. “Garrett, the usual for Dorian and the best chocolate milkshake you can make for his guest here, please.” She calls through to the kitchen area, and walks away to serve others that had come into the café.

“What was that all about?” Cullen looks to Dorian, confusion the prominent expression on his face.

“She cares deeply for me, and wants only the best, as long as I promise to give the best to whomever I should choose to share myself with.” Dorian looks back to Cullen. “We need to discuss what is going to happen between us.”

“I would be happy if we were to be friends and remain that way, but I would also be happy if we were to further this into perhaps something else.” Cullen reaches across the table, resting his hand lightly on Dorian’s. “I’m happy just so long as I get to have you in my life, Dorian. As a co-worker, a friend, or more.”

Dorian shifts his hand so it’s resting on Cullen’s. “I would be willing to chance it, and form a relationship with you, but I feel it’s important that we get to know each other a little bit more first. You’re a wonderful man, and an excellent fuck that I would be more than happy to sample again soon, but diving head first into a relationship isn’t something I’m going to do. So, how about this: I buy our drinks here, we go back to yours, you make us dinner. Maybe I’ll stay the night, maybe you’ll take me home, but I want to consider this a date.”

Cullen clears his throat, trying to determine whether he actually heard Dorian correctly. “A date?”

“Yes. I do so terribly wish to be in your company, and it would be a crime to deprive you of mine, so I declare this a date. If you’ll accept it, of course.” Dorian grins, patting the back of Cullen’s hand, leaning comfortably in his seat when the drinks are brought over.

Cullen nods, and thanks Isabela for the drink, his cheeks heating slightly at the wink she throws his way, watching the friendly touches she scatters across Dorian’s shoulder when she leaves. “You seem to know her very well.”

“I was introduced to her by Varric, one of the campus librarians. He happened to overhear me teasing Garrett’s little brother, Carver, and informed me that she and I were very alike in our humor. We met, went out for a few drinks, she brought Garrett along, and they left that evening with a particularly attractive man who I believe called himself Fenris.” He pauses. “Have you been to the campus library yet? The head librarian is called Solas, he knows a lot about everything - though I am loathe to admit that he may know more about my own field than I do - and you may find some of the stuff he says quite interesting. If he’s not in the library, you may find him playing chess with Iron Bull, though they never actually use the chess board. It’s more of a mental exercise type of thing.”

“Chess? I enjoy a game of chess, myself.”

“Oh, really? Well, if you’re free tomorrow lunch time, then perhaps we can have a quick game.” Dorian smirks. “I hope you’re prepared to lose, though.”

“I have no worries about losing, Dorian. I’ve been playing the majority of my life, and I was even the team captain in high school.” Cullen grins back at Dorian, taking a sip of his milkshake, watching Dorian’s gaze as he licks his upper lip. “But I certainly look forward to you putting your money where your mouth is.”

“I can think of other things that could be where my mouth is, too, but we’ll just have to wait for that.” Dorian quips, and laughs lightly at Cullen when he snorts and chokes on his milkshake, Cullen laughing as well.

“You did that on purpose.”

“I simply wanted to see how you would react.” Dorian hums, resting his chin on his hands, watching the other man. His leg brushes against Cullen’s under the table, catching the man’s gaze again, holding it for a long moment.

“So, the night we met in the club, I mentioned to you that the first time I went there was with a friend.” Cullen shifts in his seat, his leg and Dorian’s still touching. “Ellana was that friend. Though, I’m curious now as to whether or not it was a set up.”

“It could well have been. She’s a regular there, comes with me more often than not.” Dorian licks his lips lightly. “I mentioned to her that I was single and looking, and how convenient that the weekend after that I meet someone like you.”

Cullen blushes, dipping his head down, his gaze stuck on his milkshake. “I had the same conversation with her, and well… here we are.”

The pair drink over comfortable conversation, joined at brief intervals by Isabela, who was merely interested in how they were getting on, whether they needed anything, and if they had any plans for later in the evening. Once done, Dorian and Cullen leave, walking together to Cullen’s flat building.

“It’s lucky that you don’t live too far from the University, really.” Dorian comments, moving closer to the man so their hands almost touch, content. “Walking from where I live every morning and evening would sincerely be the death of me.”

“I’m sure you’re just being dramatic.” Cullen chuckles, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his fob, allowing himself and Dorian into the building. “Though I’ve no doubt I’ll find out if you decide to go home this evening.”

Dorian follows Cullen into the building, the lift, reminded of the night they shared together, and into Cullen’s flat. “This place certainly looks a lot different during the day.” He remarks, setting his bag and shoes down, hanging his coat on one of the pegs. “And in a sober state of mind.”

“You’ve seen my flat sober. Yesterday, in fact.” Cullen looks towards Dorian, slightly confused, slipping his own shoes off and hanging up his coat.

“I was hungover. There’s no alcohol in my system right now, so it’s different.” Dorian makes his way over to the couch, and sits, making himself comfortable as Cullen joins him. “Yesterday, when I was browsing your books, I noticed that you have a lot on military history, and very few fictional books.”

“A lot of the books are left over from when I was writing my thesis.” Cullen hums, glancing at his bookshelf. “I do enjoy fictional books, believe me, but I felt it was better to have less of them when I needed to study. Quite distracting, and it would have been bad if I never got round to finishing my thesis, wouldn’t it?”

Dorian laughs. “Yes. I suppose it would have. Perhaps next time you can come to mine, and I’ll show you my small collection of books.”

“When you say small, just… What do you mean, exactly?”

“I only have four or five bookshelves.” Dorian shrugs. “Not exactly a library, but then, there’s not enough room for me to have my own library.”

Cullen shakes his head, smiling, standing to head to the kitchen. “Are you hungry for anything in particular, or would you like me to surprise you.”

Dorian thinks for a moment, nursing his bottom lip lightly, before coming to a decision. “I’d like you to surprise me. I want to see how good your cooking is before I test you to try your hands at Tevene dishes.”

“So little faith.” Cullen teases, but goes into the kitchen, and gets to work on making a meal for the two of them. He was still currently trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was now a date, that they were now co-workers, and that despite having only said goodbye to Dorian the previous day, Dorian was once again in his flat, and Cullen couldn’t look at him without remembering what they got up to. He’s pulled from his thoughts when Dorian’s hand brushes against his waist, the man simply trying to get past him for a drink, or to watch, or something, but Cullen finds himself with a flushed face and desperation not to catch the other man’s gaze.

“You’re not very good at hiding things, you know.” Dorian says bluntly. “No matter how much you press yourself against that counter, it’s still blindingly obvious.” Dorian watches as Cullen stares at him, the man’s cheeks red, speaking before he gets the chance to. “Oh no, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. I just think it’s unhealthy to hide such a thing away in the manner you’re doing it.”

“What… What exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying, you could use some assistance.” Dorian moves over to Cullen. “And maybe I’ll stay the night after all.”

Cullen clears his throat, and turns his gaze back to the food he was preparing, shivers running down his spine as he feels Dorian’s hand brush against him again when he leaves. He could easily undo his trousers, make life a little less hard on himself, but he was more focused on trying to make a good meal for himself and Dorian, not on what they might get up to later in the evening.

An hour or so later, and the food is done, Cullen plates the meals and brings them through to the living space. “Here you go.” He says softly to Dorian, placing the food down on the coffee table. “It’s an old family recipe, my mother taught it to me when I was a boy.”

“Oh, this looks wonderful.” Dorian smiles, and picks up his food, trying some. “Tastes wonderful, too.”

“Thank you.” Cullen sits, eating his own plate of food. “If you enjoy it, perhaps I’ll make it again. Not right now, of course, but at a later time.”

“That would be nice.” Dorian settles comfortably into the seat, leaning lightly against Cullen as the man puts a film on, relaxing. It was nice to be in Cullen’s company, Dorian found. Even though the pair had only known each other for a day or so, Cullen was treating Dorian as though he had been in his life for much longer, and Dorian would be content to be treated like this for much longer.

They finish their meals, setting the plates down on the table again, and Dorian finds himself laying down on the couch with his head in Cullen’s lap. The level of comfort between the two of them continued to come as a shock to Dorian, and he wondered perhaps if Ellana - the obvious instigator in this - knew if Cullen would be just the person Dorian needed. A hand comes down to his hair, fingers brushing lightly through it, and he hums at the feel.

“You okay there, Dorian?” Cullen asks, looking down at the man, his fingers taking on a life of their own as they continue to pet the man.

“I’m wonderful.” Dorian smiles up at Cullen, swallowing lightly as he catches the man’s gaze, traces of a feeling only known to him once or twice in his life evident in his eyes. Admiration. Love. Whatever it would be called, Dorian could see it swelling in Cullen, and while the prospect frightened him, he would happily work on it with this man.

“Good.” Cullen smiles back at Dorian, his gaze returning to the TV screen, moving his hand when he feels the man sitting up. His attention is drawn by a hand on his cheek turning his head, meeting Dorian’s gaze, swallowing hard. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not sure.” Dorian says softly, and leans in, returning the kiss that Cullen had given him just the day before. Dorian notices that Cullen makes no effort to move away, and instead places a hand on the man’s side, while Dorian’s hand finds its way to Cullen’s hair.

A long moment passes, and they move back, both men sitting in silence. Cullen clears his throat, his cheeks a violent shade of red, while Dorian sits looking slightly dishevelled. Neither man says anything, until Dorian bites his lip, and meets Cullen’s gaze again.

“I think we have an answer to how this is going to go.” Dorian says, a light laugh passing his lips as he speaks. “And if it’s alright with you, I would definitely like for it to go that way.”

“You mean you…” Cullen clears his throat, nervous, rubbing the back of his neck. “If you’re implying what I think you are, then yes. I want that, too.”

“Excellent.” Dorian smiles, and takes Cullen’s hand, standing. “Can we go to bed? I’m _tired_ and in need of your body heat.”

Cullen half smirks, and follows Dorian to bed, all concern of how they were going to announce this relationship to the HR and the Principal washed from his mind, if only to spend this evening with Dorian, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything mentioned about Darinius, I found on the DA Wiki - And tried my best to make it as 'classics' oriented as possible. 
> 
> (And yes, there will be more chapters!)


	3. Chapter 3

_ Tuesday. 7:30AM _

_ If you’ve just joined us here on- _

Dorian slams his hand down on the snooze button of Cullen’s radio alarm, groaning, rolling onto his back. His hand runs over his face, then drops to the side, landing in empty space. It takes him a moment - longer than he would be willing to admit - to realise that he is the only person in the bed, sitting up, confused, and wondered if Cullen usually woke up before his alarm. 

His first class today was at 11AM, Cullen’s was at 10AM again, however he reluctantly got out of bed and pulled on Cullen’s t-shirt, thankful it was long enough to cover that which needed to be covered. He makes his way through the flat, running his fingers through his hair, following the faint smell of cooking. “Good morning.” 

“Morning.” Cullen glances up briefly, then focuses back on the food. “Omelette?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Dorian smiles, and relaxes against the counter, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “So…” He says, biting his lip. “We’re going to have to inform the HR department of our… Relationship.” 

Cullen glances up again as he plates an omelette, and hands it to Dorian, then sets to making another. “I know. We can worry about that later, though.” He smiles at Dorian, and clears his throat. “You’re free to use my shower, and uh… Well, you’re going to need some clothes, aren’t you? I’ll sort that out for you while you’re showering.” 

“Thank you.” Dorian hums, taking small bites of the omelette, watching Cullen. His gaze moves to the man’s hair, noticing that it had curled again. “Has your hair always done that?”

“Done what?”

“Curled. Your hair has curled in your sleep.” Dorian moves closer, holding the plate in one hand, his other hand reaching up to twine his fingers into a lock of curls, moving it away again when he notices Cullen’s posture stiffen. “My apologies, I simply wished to know how they feel when I’m not pulling on your hair.” He smirks. 

“My hair is naturally curled.” Cullen plates his own food, and joins Dorian as they walk through to the living space. “I just prefer when it’s slicked, I don’t look quite so ridiculous that way.” 

“I doubt you look ridiculous with your curls.” Dorian smiles softly, sitting with Cullen. “I must ask. Last night, when we…” He clears his throat. “When we had sex, did you feel that was an initiation of a relationship, or something else?”

“I… Suppose it depends, really.” Cullen shifts in his seat, glancing at Dorian. “You’re the one who fucked me, shouldn’t you be the one with the answer to that question?”

Dorian laughs. “Yes, I suppose I probably should be, but my question lingers still. Personally, I’d like to think of it as an initiation to the relationship, something more meaningful than our previous engagement, but it truly stands with you and what you want.”

“If a relationship wasn’t something I wanted, Dorian, I would have asked you to leave last night. I never would have allowed it to happen, and I certainly wouldn’t be sitting here eating breakfast with you.” Cullen tries to reassure Dorian, resting a hand lightly on the man’s leg, suddenly very aware that Dorian’s bare butt was on his couch. He clears his throat, meeting Dorian’s gaze. “You seem… Slightly distressed.” 

“Relationships are not a thing I am experienced in.” Dorian speaks quietly, his own hand coming to rest on Cullen’s. “It’s not something you do where I’m from. I’m sure you’ve heard about the laws in Tevinter, the news articles that leak out of my home country. Things happen to rich boys that don’t settle and have a family, things that get covered up when your father is a politician.” 

“Dorian…”

“So I apologise in advance if your expectations of a relationship aren’t quite met, if my displays of affection aren’t what you’re used to in Ferelden, but I’m going to try my best to-”

“Dorian, stop.” Cullen takes Dorian’s hand, squeezing it lightly. “I’m not expecting everything to be perfect straight away. I know what your home country is like, with everything that comes out of there, but you are, by far, the best thing to leave that country. We’ll take this one day at a time.”

Dorian’s gaze comes to meet Cullen’s, tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. “One day at a time is something I can do.” He smiles, and leans over, kissing Cullen’s cheek. 

***

Having walked with Dorian into work, Cullen’s work day begins with Principal Lavellan informing him that his first 9AM lecture will be next week, and Dr Pavus will be sitting in on the lecture, taking notes in determination as to whether or not Cullen needs a mentor. Cullen stands there, coffee in hand, blinking and glancing behind her at Dorian, who appeared to have engrossed himself in some book he’d borrowed from Cullen’s personal collection. 

“Is that alright, Cullen?” Ellana asks, her voice drawing him out of his confusion. 

“Yes, but… Doesn’t Dr Pavus have his own 9AM lecture to attend to on that day? Plus, I thought I was already having someone sit in on my lectures today?” 

“No, actually. His first lecture on a Friday isn’t until the afternoon, those days are quite short for him. I’ve also already asked him if he would be okay with this, and he was more than enthusiastic, to say the least.” She pauses. “Yes, you are, but Josephine is simply ensuring that you are okay, that the students are adjusting well to your lectures. Dorian is head of the history department, and therefore, he will decide if you need a mentor.”

“Odd that he should be enthusiastic to sit in on someone else’s lecture.” Cullen frowns slightly, his gaze returning to the principal, who was smirking with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Don’t play coy with me, Cullen Rutherford.” Ellana teases, pressing her finger lightly against his chest. “Both you and Dorian sent me a text early Sunday morning saying you had met someone, and spent the night with them. I’m not usually one to jump to conclusions, but I don’t believe much in conveniences, either.” She says softly, watching as Cullen glances behind her again. “I’ll book in some time for the both of you to speak to HR on Friday, give you some time to sort out whatever it is you have going on. You should know that I’m happy, for both of you, but don’t let this jeopardize your teaching abilities.”

“You have nothing to worry about, Ellana. I promise.” Cullen returns her smile, and waits until she leaves, taking a seat next to Dorian. “So I hear you’re excited to sit in on my lecture.” 

“Oh yes, ecstatic.” Dorian looks up from the book in his hand, grinning. “I haven’t had the chance to watch you in action, yet, but I have been the decider of many a professor as to whether or not they need a mentor. Mentored one last year, myself. You see Professor Trevelyan over there?” He gestures to the man currently standing with one of the librarians. “I mentored him last year when he joined the department. He teaches your basic history to students wanting to move into teaching, themselves. You may see him around, he’s very friendly, I assure you.” 

Cullen nods, sipping his coffee. “Ellana wants us to see the HR department on Friday. It seems that both of us texting her and telling her that we had found someone and spent the night with them, led her to find out about it. Apparently, she doesn’t believe in conveniences, as well, so I could hardly deny it. She’s happy for us, but we have to go to this appointment.” 

“Perfectly understandable. I do wonder who she’s going to book us in with, though. If we see Wynne, we’ll get a lecture about irresponsibility, and needing to put work before romance, and that while she understands you can’t exactly enforce a ban on love, you must put the students first.” Dorian rests the bookmark on the page and closes the book. “But if we have Leliana, well… Her method is different with everyone. She’ll know exactly what to say, where to push, and how to get you to agree with her by the time Friday comes.”

“How do you know all this?” Cullen frowns. 

“There have been a few office romances in the time that I’ve been here. Believe it or not, Leliana herself had to go through the process when she was working in admin, here. I mentioned to you yesterday that she and Josephine are inseparable, and that’s because they’re together. Of course, to anyone else, they would appear simply as very close friends. They put professionalism before romanticism, and they’re very good at it.” Dorian leans over, choosing a biscuit from the plate on the table. “In private, outside of school hours, they’re truly the most romantic couple you would meet. I was fortunate enough to be invited to a… Christmas party Josephine had arranged, her family is wealthy so it was more like a ball than a party, but it was clear she and Leliana were the best dressed couple there. The highlight, as it were. I don’t know what happened later in the evening, I just know that I found a pair of underwear, pinned to a board of some sort.”

Cullen laughs, shaking his head.  “Leliana won’t mind that you mentioned this to me?” 

“She’ll be more upset that she wasn’t able to tell you first.” Dorian chuckles lightly. “But no, she won’t care. It’s something she’s more than happy to share with people. Something to do with her philosophy of not being ashamed of the things she’s done, or who she’s with.”

“Very open then.” Cullen half asks, and Dorian nods, glancing behind him. Cullen turns around to find Josephine now gathering various paper notes, and a clipboard. “I assume I must be going. I’ll see you at lunch, if you’re free.” 

“I will be, don’t worry. I look forward to it.” Dorian smiles - almost sweetly - at Cullen, causing the man to blush. “I can send you a copy of my schedule for this semester, if you’re interested. It will make it easier to plan lunches, and such.”

“Of course. Anyway, I… Best be off.” Cullen smiles again, and turns on his heel, making his way to the lecture hall. 

***

Having set up for his first lecture of the day, Cullen takes a moment to study his students, trying to get an idea of what their attitude would be like for the hour. At the back, he can see Josephine, likely filling out one of the forms he noticed in her hands just moments before. A chat had been had prior to the beginning of the lesson, consisting of what Josephine would be taking notes of - Cullen’s attitude towards the students, his ability to engage the students, and whether both he and the students were enjoying the subject - and that should anything become overwhelming, she would be there to guide him through the situation. 

Today’s lecture touched base on the various exalted marches throughout Thedasian history, primarily focused on the march of the Dales during the Glory Age, while also pushing the importance of reading history from both points of view, and talking about both accounts what happened at Red Crossing. His lecture flows smoothly, despite some stumbles in his speech when he finds himself nervous, with few interruptions and little poor behaviour from the students. He takes note of the students who were enjoying the subject, being delicate not to upset the Elven students, staying open to different interpretations of what may have happened. 

His lecture ends, dismissing the students, his hand running over his face once he’s alone with Josephine. Exalted Marches had always been a difficult topic for him, knowing that he had held his faith so firmly in an organisation that had been the primary participant in those marches. 

“I trust you are alright, Professor?” Josephine comes down to the podium, resting her hand lightly on Cullen’s shoulder. 

“Fine, yes.” Cullen half smiles, catching her concern in the corner of his eye. “Believe me, I’m unlikely to have a bout of PTSD in the middle of teaching my students. I hope not, anyway.” 

“You understand the protocol you must go through if you feel an episode coming on, yes?” 

“Of course. Thank you for your concern, though.” Cullen gathers his papers, placing them back in his bag. “How did I do?”

“Wonderfully. A few minor slip-ups in the flow of the lecture, but nothing that set yourself and the class back. You held their attention well, as you did mine, and I believe you are settling in nicely. I’ll sit in on a lecture again in a month’s time to see how you’re progressing.” Josephine smiles at Cullen, handing him the clipboard, allowing him to sign the document she had been writing on. “It is best you go and enjoy your free period, some relaxation before your lecture after lunch.” 

Cullen nods, and quietly packs up as Josephine leaves, sighing to himself. He could be trusted not to have an episode during class, he was more than capable of detaching himself from the subject in order to teach his students, but he would need to have a conversation with Dorian. As thankful as he was that he hadn’t had nightmares both nights Dorian had stayed, peaceful sleep was something of a rarity to Cullen, and he would hate to scare Dorian away. He hoped the man would be understanding, he had of course seen the picture in Cullen’s living space, but Cullen felt he would need to help Dorian come to understand the severity of his episodes. His past drug use as a result. 

He mulled over these thoughts as he made his way to the staffroom, his eyes barely making contact with anyone else’s, sifting his way through the sea of students. Speaking with Ellana would be ideal before he spoke with Dorian, she was, after all, his best friend. One of the only people who had been there for him when he left military service. But she would give him the same advice she had always given him when faced with this situation - to be upfront and honest about his situation, about his past. 

Maker, he was moving fast. He hadn’t even known Dorian a week, yet, but his intentions were clear, as were their desires for a relationship. He knew he couldn’t avoid telling him, but his trail of thought now led to how exactly the conversation would be approached. He decided on lunch time - each other’s company had been an intention, quiet conversation a bonus. He made himself comfortable in the staff room, thankful that nobody had a desire to speak to him, allowing himself time to think as he marked work, running over potential conversation starters in his head while he waited for lunch. 

***

Lunch rolled around, and Dorian found himself walking idly towards the staffroom with his glasses on, and the end of a pen resting against his lips, glancing through a dissertation draft he had been handed. He had been provided with lunch by Cullen, who had bought the pair sandwiches from the store on the way to work. Cullen would be waiting for him, no doubt, and he would hate to keep the man waiting any longer than necessary. Upon reaching the staffroom, he places the dissertation in his folder for safekeeping, grabbing his lunch and joining Cullen. “How did it go, then?”

“Josephine believes I did wonderfully, and that my students and I are adjusting well to the lessons.” Cullen taps his fingers nervously against his kneecap, glancing at the man. “Dorian, is there a possibility we could go somewhere more… Private?”

A flash of concern paints Dorian’s face for just a moment, and Dorian knows that Cullen saw it, judging by the similar look that paints Cullen’s face. “Of course. Is this… Serious?”

“Yes.” Cullen says softly, standing, sliding his bag over his shoulder. “You know the campus better than I, so if there’s anywhere we can chat, please lead the way.” 

Dorian nods, observing Cullen for just a moment longer. “Alright. Let’s go.” 

The pair make their way across campus to one of the several small cafés, settling at a table in a quiet corner. While it was a regular occurrence to find students in here, the café was usually occupied by lecturers who needed a comfortable space to mark papers, as was the environment today. Dorian sits across from Cullen, watching as the man becomes increasingly nervous. 

“It… Became apparent to me earlier today that, if we are to further what we have into a relationship, I need to be open with areas of my past that still affect my present day.” Cullen says slowly, calculating the words as he speaks. “It’s only fair that you know, I don’t want something like this to… Have a negative effect on us.”

“You can tell me anything, Cullen.” Dorian reaches across the table, resting his hand lightly on Cullen’s, allowing his foot to brush lightly against the other  man’s leg. 

Cullen takes a heavy breath, allowing his gaze to drop to the table momentarily, carefully thinking about how to address the issue at hand. “As you’ve been informed, I served in the military for the better part of a decade. The result of my service was, not only a thoroughly disciplined mind, but a lyrium addiction and post-traumatic stress disorder.” 

Dorian watches as Cullen’s fingers work the back of his neck, something Dorian had noted to be a behaviour brought on by anxiety. He listens carefully, patiently, as Cullen continues. 

“My PTSD was brought on by what happened to my friends, the people I was serving with, when I was deployed the first time. I stupidly asked for a second deployment, and my situation didn’t get any better. I became addicted to lyrium as I served, but with Ellana’s help, and my friend Cassandra’s help, it’s been a few months since I last had any lyrium.” Cullen looks up and meets Dorian’s gaze. “I’m telling you this because… I get nightmares, regularly. I get mood swings, and I often neglect to eat as one of many results of the withdrawal, but… I’m slowly getting better. I promise.” 

Dorian studies Cullen carefully, taking note of the fear welling in his eyes, fear that Dorian might now reject him, perhaps? Cullen opens his mouth to speak again, but finds himself unable to form a coherent sentence in his mind, less so with words, sighing. “Cullen.” Dorian says to catch the other man’s attention. “I’m not going to leave you because of your past. What’s done is done, and you can’t change that. What you deal with now is something you don’t have to go through alone. I may not be an expert on relationships, but believe me Cullen, I will do whatever I can to help you through this.”

“You’d still want a relationship with someone like me?”

“Clearly this is something that has happened before, but I am not going to leave you just because you have mental health issues, and an addiction that you’re working through. Even I’m not that selfish.” Dorian’s hand squeezes Cullen’s, and he leans over the table, pressing a gentle kiss to the man’s forehead. “Nobody is perfect. Except for me, of course,” He pauses as Cullen laughs. “But I digress, I’m glad you trusted me with this information. I would like to ask that, when you are in need of company, be it due to your withdrawal or anything else, that you contact me. No matter the time. I’ll be with you as quickly as I can, and I’ll stay as long as you need.” 

A smile flashes across Cullen’s lips, only realising he had started to cry when his eyes sting. “Oh. Oh Maker.” Cullen chuckles lightly, brushing his eyes with his thumbs and the backs of his hands. “Sorry, I… I’m not used to that kind of support. I’m a mess when I cry, and you don’t deserve to be subjected to that. Thank you.” He clears his throat, and allows himself to calm properly, adjusting his sitting position. His attention draws to his food as his stomach growls, actively making the decision to eat, glancing up as Dorian also makes the decision to eat. 

They sit in a comfortable silence, eating their lunches together, legs brushing and smiles exchanged. Once done, they dispose of their rubbish, and make a mutual agreement to head back to the main building. 

“Cullen.” Dorian says after some time, brushing his shoulder against the other man’s. “I would like you to come back to my place, tonight. If possible. If… That’s alright with you, of course.” 

“I’d like that.” Cullen smiles at Dorian. “I can cook for us, if you’d like.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I want you to try one of my favourite Tevene dishes, I’ll cook. You’re my guest.” Dorian allows his hand to brush against Cullen’s, the action startling them both into putting their hands in their pockets. “We can watch a film, maybe? Allow… Us to settle after the last two nights.”

Cullen laughs, shaking his head, holding the door open for Dorian. “Alright. It’s a date, then.” Cullen stands outside the staffroom with Dorian, the pair clearly contemplating a kiss, or a hug, or some form of gentle intimacy. Cullen breaks away first, clearing his throat. “I have a class to teach. I’ll see you at the end of the day.”

Dorian nods, his cheeks heated, dipping his head. “I look forward to it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter with touch heavily on Cullen's PTSD, and the aspects with that (addiction, ED, nightmares etc.)  
> It will also include a time-skip from where they are now (they met on Saturday, we are now on the Tuesday) but I will definitely write about Friday's HR meeting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to my beta reader for helping me with this chapter. PTSD is a sensitive topic, and I felt I needed a second pair of eyes to ensure I was approaching it in the correct way.

Cullen’s heel tapped a steady rhythm against the floor, his leg shaking anxiously, as he listens. Friday was here, as was the meeting with HR, Leliana being the one to process their report. Dorian was next to him, amazingly calm, playing Leliana’s game with her.

_I understand that you knew each other prior to being co-workers._ Cullen’s mind shot back to the night they had spent together, the nightclub, brief flickers of the intimacy, shifting in his seat. _I doubt you would have had sex with the knowledge._ Cullen looks at Dorian, finding his gaze met, a knowing smirk on Dorian’s face. Of course they would have had sex, and who would blame them? _It is not against your contracts to engage in workplace relations, but you both must be clear that you consent to the relationship._

“Of course we consent to the relationship.” Dorian quips, resting a leg over the other, crossing his arms over his chest. Dorian could feel Cullen watching him, curious. Of course, he was as nervous as Cullen, he just knew how to hide it.

“I need confirmation from both of you, Dr Pavus.” Leliana replies, her voice steady, all power in the room hers. “Professor Rutherford.”

Cullen’s attention is drawn to Leliana when his name is mentioned, taking a moment. “I do consent to the relationship. Completely.” He pauses, watching as Leliana signs a statement paper. “What now?”

“Both of you will sign this, and I will pass it on to Principal Lavellan.” Leliana hands the paper to Dorian, who signs it, then passes it to Cullen. “You understand that, if your relationship begins to get in the way of your teaching, you will be called back in here and I will impose strict regulations, yes?”

“Completely understand.” Dorian nods.

“No, actually. What regulations?”

“One or both of you will likely be asked to leave, given a transfer to a different university, or put on a different timetable. That, or you will be asked to… discontinue the relationship.” She takes the paper back once signed, placing it in the folder on her desk. “But I do not believe you will ever get to that point.”

Cullen nods, as does Dorian, before Cullen’s attention is drawn to Dorian’s hands. The way the man moves them when he speaks. Flair that he wished he could have, but would never possess. _Anyway_ he hears, his attention drawn back to Leliana.

“I think this meeting is done. You are both allowed to leave.” She hums. “Cullen, take care of Dorian. He hurts easily. Dorian, you do the same for Cullen. I expect only good news from the two of you.”

***

_2 months later._

Of all the times this could happen to Cullen, it had to be when he and Dorian were being intimate. He hadn’t meant to push Dorian away so violently, he hadn’t meant to cause the man to hit his head and back against the wall. Sure, Dorian had pinned his hands above his head before, but Cullen had always picked up on the hints that it was going to happen.

Not this time.

Dorian had pinned Cullen’s hands above his head, the dim lamp on the bedside table the only source of light in the room, hindering Cullen’s ability to read Dorian’s emotions. The hands were holding his wrists tightly, like bonds, the weight of Dorian’s body on his own. Trapped. Cullen felt trapped.

The adrenaline kicked in immediately, his eyes widening, breathing picking up. He struggled, pushed Dorian away, off the bed. He heard a thud, but he didn’t care, scrambling away from the bed. Away from Dorian. Away from _it_.

He stood, evaluating his surroundings as quickly as his mind would allow, as quickly as his eyes could move, but nothing was processing. Dorian was talking. Talking to him? Talking _at him_ . _What was he saying?_ Cullen could see his mouth moving, but the words weren’t registering.

Too fast, suddenly everything was too fast, and Dorian was moving towards him with his hands in the air. Cullen’s back hit the wall, the cold jolting through his spine, startling him.

“No. No, don’t.” Cullen’s voice was almost a beg, and Dorian stopped in front of him, keeping his hands in view. Cullen closed his eyes, and his stomach flipped with the image that followed; the memory. His hands felt sweaty, a phantom grip on his wrists causing his back to stiffen, but his legs weaken.

Cullen dropped to the floor, his hands in front of his face, drawing his knees to his chest. He heard Dorian’s movements as he paced. Too close. _Too close_ . Pushing his hand through his hair, pulling at it, Cullen started to cry. His hands felt clammy, his chest was tight, and somewhere in his mind he knew that Dorian wasn’t there to hurt him, but he had to keep the man away, or _he_ might hurt _him_. Again.

“Cullen?” Dorian stopped a few inches away from his lover, crouching down to his level, keeping his hands where the other man could see. “Listen to me, Cullen-”

“No! No, I won’t let you hurt me!” Cullen speaks through gritted teeth, the hand in his hair still tugging. “I won’t let you hurt me!”

“I’m not going to hurt you, Cullen.” Dorian tries to speak as softly as he could, though he was just as frightened by this as Cullen was, having never had to deal with anything like this. The sight of Cullen, the man he loved, beating himself up and worked up in a state like this, made his stomach flip. Made him sick with worry. “I’m here to help, I promise. Please, look at me, take your hand out of your hair. You’re hurting yourself.”

_Amatus,_ Cullen hears. Dorian’s voice; a voice he knows. He lifts his gaze just above his hand, catching sight of Dorian, who had turned the main bedroom light on now. _That’s it_. A smile from the other man, a hand reaching out. Cullen flinches, the hand moves away, still in view. His own hand gripping tighter, his head starting to hurt now. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying, Cullen. I would never hurt you. Give me your hand, please.” Dorian begins to extend his hand again, but stops halfway, giving Cullen the option to take it or leave it there. Tears sting the corners of Dorian’s eyes, but he keeps his composure. He has to remain calm, appear strong, for Cullen. He watches Cullen’s face as he processes his decision, as Cullen loosens his hand in his hair, but doesn’t quite reach for Dorian’s yet. “I promise to keep my hands where you can see them.”

Cullen’s breathing picks up once again, the weight of trusting the other man not to hurt him bearing down on his shoulders. It takes several long moments, but Cullen finally releases his hair, a stinging pain in his head. He looks up at Dorian’s face, and despite hurting him, he can sense the man was being genuine in his intentions and wanted to help Cullen. _Amatus,_ Cullen hears again. _Amatus, please_. Cullen’s breathing begins to steady out, his cheeks wet, carefully reaching for Dorian’s hand. His hand grips Dorian’s, perhaps a little bit too tightly, but makes no effort to actually move yet, still cautious.

Dorian keeps good to his word, and the hand not currently being gripped by Cullen stays within the man’s eye line. “Breathe with me, Cullen. Slowly, in and out.” He waits patiently, breathing the way he required Cullen to breathe. Soon after, Cullen begins to follow Dorian’s breathing pattern, much to Dorian’s relief, hoping that the man was finally beginning to calm down. “There we go. Now, I’m going to get you some pyjama bottoms, okay? I’ll need you to put them on. Is that alright?”

Cullen simply nods. He watches as Dorian frees his hand from Cullen’s grip, walking to his drawers and getting out two pairs of pyjama bottoms. He brings them back over, and gets back on Cullen’s level, handing him a pair. Cullen takes them when offered, taking his time to put them on, keeping his gaze down. A hand is offered again, and Cullen allows his fingers to slide between Dorian’s, the other man helping him stand and sit back on the bed. Cullen’s eyes fix momentarily on his hand in Dorian’s, his shoulders tense, beginning to cry again when he looks up to Dorian. “I’m so sorry.”

Dorian watches as Cullen’s hand slips from his, using the opportunity to finally put his own pyjama bottoms on, sitting on the bed next to his lover. “Cullen, you ridiculous, marvellous man. You have nothing to apologise for. If anything, I’m the one who needs to apologise to you for frightening you.” Dorian carefully lifts his arm, and wraps it around Cullen’s shoulders, pulling the man close. “At the very least, I should have given a warning before I wrapped my hands around your wrists, and I’m sorry.”

“I hurt you, Dorian. You should be angry, you shouldn’t be the one apologising. You hit the wall, are you okay?”

“Oh, hush. I’ve had worse in bed, a little bump to the head is nothing.” Dorian presses a soft kiss to the side of Cullen’s head. “We don’t have to talk about it now, but for future reference, we need a word. So that if anything we’re talking about, anything we’re doing, or anywhere we’re going is uncomfortable for you, you can say that word and we can decide whether we’re going to continue what we’re doing, or stop. It has to be something you won’t say in normal conversation, so have a think, and let me know.”

Cullen nods, his nails scratching up his arm, and back down, a gentle repetitive movement. “Dorian, I… I know I promised I would be clean, that I would stay clean and… Wouldn’t let myself relapse, but I need it. Dorian, I need some lyrium, so that this’ll stop happening. So I won’t be waking you up in the middle of the night screaming, so I… Don’t hurt you any worse than I already have.”

“Cullen, you are so much stronger than your addictions. Don’t let this break you.” Dorian’s hand rests on Cullen’s, stopping him from scratching his skin raw, the other hand coming to rest on Cullen’s cheek.

“I don’t want to keep hurting you, Dorian, and if this keeps getting worse, I will. I’ll end up doing something more violent, and I won’t be able to stop myself, because it’ll be the only solution in my eyes. The only way to make the bad memories go away. Push everyone else away, and… hurt them.” Cullen’s eyes flick down, away from Dorian’s gaze, his voice coming out a whimper. “Help me.”

“You know I’ll help you, Cullen. You _will_ get through this, and you _will_ get better.” Dorian’s thumb brushes gently against Cullen’s cheek, hooking his fingers under his chin to lift it, and catch his gaze. “I won’t let you make the progress you’ve made meaningless. Is there anyone I can phone? Friends? Family? Someone that will help me to help you through this?”

“Ellana was the one helping me before, but if you call her now, I’ll lose my job. She’ll think I’m incompetent, that I can’t do my job properly.” Cullen lifts a shaky hand towards his hair, Dorian’s other hand leaving his face and catching that one, as well. He watches as Dorian’s thumbs rub the back of his hands, the gesture simple and soothing.

“She won’t fire you, Cullen. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll send her a text, ask if she can come round, and what I should do if she can’t. For now, you settle into bed, and I’ll make you a nice cup of tea with some toast. Does that sound good?”

“Sounds good.” Cullen nods, shifting towards the head of the bed, resting back against the pillows. He watches as Dorian leaves the room, then stares at his hands, rubbing his wrists. He doesn’t understand what had set him off this time, why Dorian’s grip on his wrists had caused him to throw his lover off him, but he knew he didn’t want that to happen again. It would be hard for him to admit that he needed help, it was a nightmare having Ellana drag it out of him the first time he requested he speak to her, but he felt like perhaps it was time to speak with Dorian.

Having realised Dorian was taking a long time in the kitchen, Cullen decides to check on him. He sees Dorian, elbows resting against the counter, head in his hands, his shoulders tense. Something he had seen in past relationships, when he’d finally flipped on them, usually around the time they ended. “Dorian,” Cullen says softly, and walks over, resting a hand  on his lower back. “I… I need help. I need help, and I’m willing to admit that. Please, just… Don’t leave me.”

“I have no desire to leave you, amatus.” Dorian lifts his head, and turns to rest his head on Cullen’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I can’t help but I feel that I am to blame for your outburst. You need a day off, I’m going to tell Ellana you won’t be available tomorrow.” Dorian moves away as the toaster finishes, grabbing the toast and buttering it. “She’ll understand once I explain what’s happened, I’m sure I can convince Maxwell to cover some of your classes, and I’ll cover the rest.”

Cullen watches the man, resigned to a feeling in his stomach that was telling him to leave, to finish everything. “Dorian, I-”

“Cullen, please. I’m not going to leave you, nor am I going to allow you to end the relationship over something you can’t control. I am… Ridiculously, hopelessly in love with you, and I want to offer all and any help I can.” He hands the plate of toast to Cullen, smiling as he almost immediately begins to pick at it. “You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid, whether you like it or not.”

A soft smile passes over Cullen’s lips, resting his face against Dorian’s hand when it comes to rest on his cheek. “Yes, boss.”

“Let me contact Ellana, then, and you can return to bed. Maybe put the TV on, and we can watch a film before we sleep, yeah?”

“Of course.” Cullen hums, and turns, returning to the bedroom.

***

_To: Ellana_

_From: Dorian_

_El, I need your help. Cullen had an episode of sorts, this is the first time I’ve seen one, or been on the receiving end of it. What do I do?_

 

_To: Dorian_

_From: Ellana_

_What? I thought he was getting better. What kind of episode was it? He hasn’t been taking lyrium, has he?_

 

_To: Ellana_

_From: Dorian_

_He has been getting better, at least I thought he was, as well. No, he hasn’t been anywhere near lyrium. Do you really think I would let him near the stuff? It didn’t last long, but he did react violently to me holding his wrists._

 

_To_ _: Dorian_

_From: Ellana_

_No, I don’t know why I asked that, sorry. Last time this happened, he needed pretty much constant attention for a few days. His paranoia was through the roof, he needed reassurance that I wasn’t going to leave him or let him relapse. The whole works. I’ll book in some cover for both yours and his lectures this week. You take care of him, and be back in when he’s better. Paid sick leave, and don’t worry, your third years won’t fall behind on their dissertations. I’ll have Solas cover if I need to._

 

_To_ _: Ellana_

_From: Dorian_

_Thank you, El. It’s appreciated. I’ll email you my lecture plans for this week, and have Cullen email his, as well._

 

_To: Dorian_

_From: Ellana_

_Keep me updated. Don’t let him decline further, or I’ll have your head._

***

Dorian wakes early the next morning, despite having turned off all alarms for the week, finding the bed lacking one body. To be expected, of course, as Cullen had been waking frequently with nightmares. Dorian pushed himself out of the bed, going to Cullen’s usual spot, the chair in Dorian’s study.

“Amatus.” Dorians voice comes softly, rousing Cullen from the book he was reading. “Come back to bed. We don’t have work this week, so we can catch up on our sleep.”

Cullen swallows, and places the book down on the desk. “Are you sure you want me to join you?”

Dorian stares at Cullen, trying to figure out where all of the insecurity had come from, blinking when he realised. “Cullen, I’m not going to leave you. I even said that last night. Please, come back to bed. We can cuddle for a bit if you’d prefer not to sleep, but you can’t stay here all day.”

“Surely it’s time to get up now, anyway. Would there be any point in me going to bed?”

“It’s five in the morning, Cullen. There’s definitely a point in you coming back to bed.” Dorian comes to rest his hand lightly on Cullen’s shoulder, sliding down between his shoulder blades. Dorian meets Cullen’s gaze, a sense of relief washing over him as Cullen gives in, and leads him back to bed.

“Can we afford to have a week off?” Cullen asks, his voice tinged with concern.

“Of course. Ellana said it was paid sick leave, on the basis that she doesn’t believe you’re fit enough to work, nor should you be left alone.” Dorian closes the door behind them, climbing into bed with Cullen, laying on his side to face the man. His hand brushes over his cheek, his stubble, his thumb briefly brushing over the scar bisecting his lip. “She knew I would refuse to leave you alone, anyway.”

“What about your classes, Dorian?”

“Yours are equally as important, but she’s getting cover for us. Don’t fret. Just sleep.” Dorian continues his petting of Cullen’s face, watching as his actions soothe the man into sleep, smiling softly.

Once Dorian is certain Cullen is asleep, he gets up, going to his office space. He begins to write up plans for the week, as a way to ensure Cullen knows what was going to happen and when, lessening the chance of heightened anxiety. He glances briefly at the marking he was yet to do, chewing lightly on the end of his pen, sighing. His students were important, but he would be in no mind to mark anything if he was constantly worrying about Cullen. A hand comes to run through his hair, resting at the back of his head, allowing himself some short moments to think. He knew when Cullen told him that he suffered from PTSD that there would be times like this, granted he never thought that it would be so violent so quickly, but then - he had never been in close contact with someone like Cullen for so long.

He wondered, perhaps, if Cullen had been taking medication. In the short time they had been together, he hadn’t seen Cullen taking any pills, but most of their time together was spent at work and there were plenty of places to hide there.

With a sigh, he stood. He’d been down here almost an hour now, and with the hour spent trying to get Cullen back to sleep, it was coming up to seven in the morning. He decided to join Cullen back in bed, watching the man sleep. Dorian noted that Cullen seemed happier when he slept, more at ease, wishing somehow that he could make Cullen’s worries go away permanently. He would need to ask Cullen about his medication when they woke, and whether he remembers the details of what happened the evening before, but for now Dorian was content in knowing that Cullen was resting.

Which was good enough for Dorian. For now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient and waiting! I finish college soon, so the wait between this chapter and the next shouldn't be too long.

Dorian and Cullen’s week got off to a rocky start. Cullen found it difficult to sleep, and difficult to stay awake, the nightmares and hallucinations following his episode invading his thought patterns whenever he drifted too far from what he was concentrating on.

The first evening, Dorian had been kicked in his lower back by Cullen’s flailing legs, waking to a pool of sweat in the bed, and Cullen crying out in his sleep. Dorian had soothed the man’s nightmares with a cool cloth on his forehead, gentle brushing of his fingers through Cullen’s hair, and a lullaby - though Tevene - he had been sung in his early childhood. The second night wasn’t dissimilar to the first, and by the next day, Dorian had decided that sleeping on the sofa may be the only solution.

Days were spent wherever Cullen felt most comfortable, which was at Dorian’s home on the sofa, with his head rested in Dorian’s lap. There was little protest from Dorian, as he was more than happy to laze about and watch their favourite films together. Anything to keep Cullen level headed. By the time Wednesday came around, Cullen was happy to go outside, and Dorian felt it only right to take him back to the Siren’s Call cafe. The pair settled at the table in the far corner as they had when they first came here, Dorian resting his head on his hand as he watches Cullen, the other man tapping his fingers against the wood of the table. Cullen’s attention on Dorian is intermittent, glancing around the room, taking note of the theme of the decor.

“So this must be the infamous Cullen, then.” Garrett smirks as he comes over, his hands in his pockets, a pen resting on his ear. “Bela and I have heard all about you. Dorian loves updating us on how you’re doing. It’s a shame, really, that I didn’t get to meet you last time you were here. Ever so busy in the kitchen, you see.” Garrett glances briefly at Dorian, who gives a slight nod. The pair had been in contact, Dorian notifying Garrett of Cullen’s circumstances, and that should they come in today, they would need a less hands-on service.

Cullen lifts his gaze to meet Garrett’s, taking a moment to process his presence, feeling Dorian’s foot slide up his leg to comfort him. “Garrett, I assume. It’s nice to finally meet you. Dorian tells me about you a lot, too. I hear there’s a chance of wedding bells very soon.”

“Yeah, you heard correctly. Dorian’s been helping me out, picking out a ring for her. I haven’t asked yet, you see, and she’s never seemed hot on the idea of marriage. But Carver told me the other day she was fawning over the idea of getting married and starting a family when she spoke to Varric, so who knows?” Garrett shrugs, taking the pen from behind his ear, getting out his pad. “Fenris has been pushing the idea to me, as well. Says he wants us to be happy. I reassured him that he could still be with us, I didn’t want him to think we would just dump him because Isabella and I are married, or something.”

Cullen blinks, and looks at Dorian for clarification. Dorian laughs softly. “You remember I told you a few months ago, when I first brought you here, that they met a handsome man named Fenris in a bar, and they took him home with them?”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“Well, we kept him.” Garrett smirks. “He’s one of us, now. You might get to meet him, if you’re lucky. He doesn’t really enjoy coming here, but you’ll know who he is if you see him around. He’s got a constant scowl on his face, until Isabela kisses his cheek, that is.”

“I’m sure Fenris will love Cullen just as much as everyone else does.” Dorian hums, and smiles at Cullen again. “What would you like, amatus?”

“Well, I really liked the milkshake I had last time I came here.” Cullen shifts in his seat. “I uh, just want a chicken sandwich with it too, please.”

Dorian nods, watching as Garrett scrawls down the order on his pad. “The usual for me, Garrett. Thank you.”

“So, one order of a chocolate milkshake and a chicken sandwich, with a caramel iced frappe and a feta and tomato salad. Got it. Need anything else, just call me over, and I’ll sort it.” Garrett rests the pen back on his ear, throwing a cheeky wink at both Dorian and Cullen before he leaves.

Dorian waits patiently until the man is gone, and reaches over the table, taking Cullen’s hand in his own. Cullen’s attention is slowly drawn to the man, a soft smile on his face. “Are you comfortable, amatus?”

“Yes. I like to think I’m okay. I’m a lot more comfortable here than I expected to be.”

“No anxieties or anything?”

“Not at the moment, no. Everything is fine.” Cullen watches as his hand is lifted, Dorian’s lips pressing against the skin on the back. “I had an email, this morning, from one of my third year students. An odd one, I’ll admit. They didn’t need assistance, they just wanted to ensure I was okay. The class is missing me, apparently.”

“It’s good to know your students care so much about you. A lot of the time, professors don’t get that sort of thing.” Dorian smiles, his leg rubbing against Cullen’s again. “Hopefully, you’ll be in a better place by the time we go back.”

“I hope so. I’ve… Thought of our word. Something I can say whenever I need to escape a situation.”

“You have?” Dorian’s head tilts slightly, his eyebrow cocked. “What is it?”

“Lightning. I’m unlikely to use it in day to day conversation. It’s easy to remember, and it doesn’t really fit in with conversation unless the conversation is about storms, or the like.” Cullen brushes his thumb over the back of Dorian’s hand.

“Perfectly reasonable, and an good word to listen out for. Lightning. That’ll get you out of any situation that you find uncomfortable, provided I can remove you from it. Should it arise that I can’t get you out, I’ll do whatever within my power to soothe your anxieties and keep you safe.”

***

Dorian paces slowly outside of the bathroom, the door locked, Cullen inside. Less than an hour ago, the pair were walking home through a park, having finished their meal and said goodbye to Garrett and Isabela. Now, Dorian was running his fingers through his hair, listening to his lover vomit in the bathroom, kicking himself for not seeing the signs of his anxiety.

It was upon Cullen’s insistence that Dorian remained outside the bathroom, and unwilling to make the other man more uncomfortable than he already was, he obliged. Hoping, of course, that Cullen would call if he needed him. Noise ceases for a long moment, and the lock clicks on the door, the sight of Cullen completely dishevelled and exhausted now in front of Dorian. Dorian watched as Cullen wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, his eyes focused on the floor.

“Cullen…”

“I’m fine, Dorian. I just want to rest, now.” Cullen brushes past Dorian, and into the living room. He lays on the couch, half focused on the television.

“Amatus.” Dorian sighs softly, crouching in Cullen’s line of sight, brushing his fingers gently over his forehead. His gaze is met by a vacant expression, his heart sinking at the pain of his lover. “I’ll make you some soup, get you a blanket, water, and a bowl. Does that sound good?”

Cullen nods, closing his eyes at the wave of sickness passing through him, swallowing. “Dorian, I forgot to take my anxiety medication today.”

“I’ll get your medication with your soup, alright? Just rest.” Dorian’s voice is soft, leaning forwards to press a kiss to the other man’s forehead. He stands, and makes his way into the kitchen, preparing the soup for Cullen. Once the soup is in a bowl and in the microwave, he searches his cupboards for where Cullen may have put his medication. He finds the diazepam, sighing softly when he sees only two pills left in the packet, taking one and getting a glass of water.

Bringing both through to the living room, Dorian places them on the coffee table, waiting for Cullen to sit up. “Do you know where your prescription for the medication is? You’re running out and need to get some more.”

“It’s at my place, in my top drawer.” Cullen says as he pushes himself up, taking his medication, slumping back down afterwards. “I had planned to buy some this week, but I don’t think I’ll be leaving the house again at this rate.”

“I could always pick it up for you. If you give me your keys, I can go back to yours, get the prescription, and buy your medication.”

“Please don’t leave me alone.” Cullen looks up, weakness present in his eyes though not on his face.

“Cullen, if I don’t get your medication for you, you’ll be worse than you already are, and I really can’t put you through that.” Dorian’s fingers begin to run through Cullen’s hair again, soothing the man.

“I can’t let you buy my medication for me, Dorian.”

“Hush, you silly man. I want you at your best, and if that means buying your medication for you just this once, then it doesn’t bother me.” Dorian insists, standing again when the microwave beeps. “You’ll have to sit up, now. Your soup is ready.”

Cullen pushes himself up slowly, watching as Dorian leaves to get the soup, wrapping his arms and the blanket tighter around himself. It had been a while, admittedly, since he had been in the position he was in this week. He was still getting used to having someone care for him when he was like this, almost certain that the unfamiliarity was attributing to the anxiety. His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he fights with himself for a moment, before taking it out and checking. Ellana had messaged him, probably wanting to check on him and see how he was doing.

Dorian comes back through to the living room, tray in hand, soup and bread resting on top. “I take it Ellana messaged you, as well?” He chuckles lightly as Cullen puts his phone down. “She asked me to make sure you buy more medication this week. It seems like she’s been reminding you for a while, now, I assume?”

Cullen takes the tray, resting it on his lap, humming softly at the smell of the soup. “Yes,” he nods, confirming Dorian’s suspicions. “Ever since my last episode, she’s been reminding me to buy my medication monthly, because I’m known to forget.”

“Well, it’s a good job I’m here to assist with that, then, isn’t it?” Dorian smiles, and takes a seat next to Cullen.

Cullen meets Dorian’s gaze, looking at him for what feels like longer than it really was, his gaze diverting back to the soup in his lap. “Dorian, can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, amatus.” Dorian’s hand rests lightly on Cullen’s forearm, concern washing through his voice.

Cullen swallows, biting his lip. “Would you still love me if I relapsed? If I went back to taking lyrium? If it was the only way I could… I could fight away the thoughts that I get and the way I feel?”

“What are you-”

“Dorian, I’m not going to relapse. I have no desire to take lyrium, or hurt myself, or anything like that. I may have been bad at handling my anxiety in the past, admittedly in the last week as well, but I’m not anymore.”

“Just the other day, you told me you needed lyrium.” Dorian frowns, confused.

“Yes, I’m aware of that, Dorian, but I…” He sighs, struggling to get his words out.

“Amatus, look at me.” Dorian places his hand on Cullen’s cheek, tilting his chin to make the man look at him. “I would love you, even if you couldn’t handle yourself anymore. But my goal is to not let you get to that point. To make sure you know you have someone who is always going to be there.” Dorian pauses, tilting his head slightly. “What’s brought this on? This mood?”

“I’m… looking to move, soon. Just out of my flat, not out of town, but somewhere bigger.” Cullen licks his lips. “Moving has always been difficult for me, it’s always peaked my anxiety and pushed me close to relapse. Mostly because I’ve never really had someone to help me through the process.”

“Amatus…”

“Dorian, if I asked you to move in with me, would you say yes?” Cullen asks, quick with his words, and almost as quick to regret saying it. “I mean… I meant-”

“Cullen.” Dorian says firmly to gain Cullen’s attention, meeting the other man’s gaze when he looks at him. “We practically live together already. We’ve spent a lot of time between each other’s houses, and I haven’t once felt any desire to ask you to leave while you’ve been here.”

“I know, Dorian. But this would be different, and I understand that we’ve only been together for two months. You’re under no obligation to say yes, and agree to move in with me. You’ve experienced first hand what I can be like, not even the worst I can get. I… I wouldn’t want you to change your mind about me when you see the worst of me.” Cullen looks down at the soup, biting his lip. “I wouldn’t be moving for a month or so anyway, but…” He trails off, his gaze slowly meeting Dorian’s again.

“If you want me to move in with you, amatus, I would happily agree to do so.” Dorian’s voice inflects, indicating the lack of a ‘but’ in the sentence, Cullen notes. “You must, however, keep taking your medicine, and promise me you’ll tell me when you’re feeling off. Or at least tell someone, if you can’t tell me. I wouldn’t be angry with you. Especially if we’re at work.”

Cullen stays silent for a moment, the level of trust he had in Dorian and Dorian in him a major reminder of just how quickly their relationship had moved in the few months they had been together, finally nodding. “Alright. I promise, I’ll take my medication, and make sure to tell you if I forget one. Talking openly to people about any issues without prompt or need will be… difficult at first, but I’ll try my best.”

Dorian smiles, bringing his hand up to toy with Cullen’s now curled hair, content in the fact that Cullen would try his best. He had promised he and Cullen would work on their lesson plans together tomorrow, and they would, after Dorian had picked up Cullen’s prescription of course.

“We’ll get you through this.” Dorian says after some time, and drapes his arm over Cullen’s shoulder. “Maybe tomorrow we can order takeout, your favourite, my treat. We’ll get two days of lesson plans done, relax in front of the tv, see where the night takes us.” Dorian waits for a response, receiving none, looking down at Cullen. The man had fallen asleep with his head on Dorian’s shoulder, snoring softly with his arm draped over his stomach. Dorian couldn’t help the light chuckle that came from him, moving carefully to remove the tray from Cullen’s lap, and lay the man down on the couch. As sensitive as the man was to noise when he slept, Cullen really slept like the dead sometimes, Dorian thought.

With a blanket draped over his lover, Dorian was content to sit himself in the armchair, relaxing long into the night.

***

Having recovered from the previous day, Cullen had worked hard on his lesson plans for the next week, with help from Dorian on plans for his third year lectures. Students were busy with their dissertations, and time would need to be slotted for 1-to-1 assistance if required. Dorian had ensured he remained fed and watered, Ellana having informed him that Cullen was known to forget the basic human needs when he was focused.

“Cullen.”

Cullen looks up, and over the screen of his laptop towards Dorian, who appeared to have neglected his shirt. Cullen himself was dressed in nothing more than his loose jogging bottoms and t-shirt, but Dorian had been wearing considerably more less than ten minutes ago. Cullen blinked, and cleared his throat, raising his eyebrow in curiosity. “Yes, love?”

“I believe there’s a chance you may have worked enough for one day. With all the work you’ve done for your students, your dedication...” Dorian bites his lip, sauntering over, slowly pushing the lid down on Cullen’s laptop, offering his hand. “You deserve a break, we can work on more tomorrow.” Dorian waits patiently, sensing Cullen’s hesitance, smiling when the other man finally takes his hand.

Cullen stands, all thought of work hazed out of his mind, allowing himself to be lead through from the office to the living room, and seated on the couch. “Dorian…”

“If you want me to stop, I will.” Dorian almost purrs, leaning forwards to ghost his lips over Cullen’s, allowing the other man to move first.

Cullen rests his hand on the back of Dorian’s neck, sliding it up into Dorian’s hair, kissing the man with impassioned desire. There is no ‘slow’ in their kiss, no build-up, no patience. Cullen more than intended to make up for their weekend, comfortable enough to spend a hour or two of intimacy with his lover, moving onto his back. Dorian is sliding up and resting his weight on top of Cullen, biting and sucking at Cullen’s bottom lip, swelling them, disheveling the man underneath him. A leg drops over the sofa, Cullen’s foot resting on the floor. Dorian’s hand is on Cullen’s side, cradling him gently, Dorian’s other hand coming to rest next to Cullen’s head.

Dorian’s hips roll languidly against Cullen’s, moving his kisses down Cullen’s throat, the hand on his hip pushing Cullen’s shirt up and off, scratching at his skin. “Are you sure about this?” Dorian asks, his erection straining in his trousers, brushing briefly against Cullen’s and drawing a moan from the man. “I need your permission.”

“Yes.” Cullen pushes his hips up. “Yes, Dorian. Please.”

“If you want me to stop, tell me. Or use your stop word.” Dorian says, his voice husky, pushing himself onto his arms. Dorian allows himself to rut their mutual arousal together through their clothes, Cullen’s hands gripping his shoulder and bicep, scratching at his skin. He watches the flush rise in Cullen’s cheeks, and cover his neck, his eyes trailing further down to the blush across Cullen’s torso. “Take them off.” Dorian ruts his hips for emphasis, panting, groaning softly. “Take them off and sit up.”

Cullen reaches down, tugging at his jogging bottoms, watching as Dorian moves off of him. He pushes the jogging bottoms down and off, sitting up, spreading his legs as Dorian moves to his knees. Dorian’s fingers wrap around the waistband of Cullen’s boxers, tugging with great effort to get them off, running his hands along Cullen’s thighs. Cullen’s breath catches in his throat, a whine in his chest as Dorian’s fingers brush against and wrap around his length, unable to stop the rock of his hips.

Dorian shifts closer, a hand resuming its place on Cullen’s hip, his head lowering down to run his tongue over the tip of Cullen’s cock. He relishes in the noise he draws from Cullen’s throat, allowing his tongue to flick repeatedly, before taking his length into his mouth. Cullen’s hand is in his hair before he can move his head back up, pressing his tongue flat against the other man, dragging his mouth back up Cullen’s length with the tug on his hair. _Maker, Dorian_ he hears, and can only respond with a soft grunt, before he is working his mouth over Cullen’s length again, bringing the man closer to the edge with each movement.

A hand slips between Cullen’s legs, and Cullen shifts, allowing Dorian’s fingers to brush against his hole. Teasing, as usual, Dorian retracts them almost as soon as they’re there, leaving Cullen whining for more. Before long, Cullen feels the coldness of the room, Dorian’s mouth removed from his length, the man standing in front of him. Cullen gets the hint, and stands too, his hand suddenly in Dorian’s as he’s dragged upstairs.

Dorian kicks the door closed behind him, his hands on Cullen’s chest, pushing him to the bed. Ever careful not to be too rough unless Cullen instigated it, Dorian crawls over Cullen’s form, lips ghosting as he holds himself above the man. “Amatus, I do believe I may be overdressed. Would you like to help me with that?”

Cullen’s breath catches in his throat again, his hands sliding down almost immediately, grabbing and tugging at Dorian’s trousers. The zipper is undone, Dorian’s trousers pushed down, Cullen taking a moment to stare at Dorian’s immediate nudity. “You…” Cullen stumbles over his words, his mouth hanging open for a moment, words forming but never coming out. “You planned this, didn’t you?” He accuses, his hands dropping above his head, biting his lip at the smirk he receives from the other man.

“You know me so well.” Dorian chuckles lightly, a hand sliding carefully up Cullen’s arm, sliding their fingers together. Cullen’s free hand moves before Dorian can take it in his own, watching as it moves down, wrapping around his shaft. A gentle stroke, then another, and once more before Cullen’s thumb slides over the tip, causing Dorian to hiss. “Teasing, are we?”

“Crossing the line between teasing and wanting.” Cullen meets Dorian’s gaze, squeezing the hand currently holding his, keeping a steady pace with his other hand. “Very quickly.”

Dorian swallows, and drops down, pressing his lips to Cullen’s. His hips roll, thrusting through Cullen’s grip, groaning softly at the wave of pleasure. Dorian’s free hand reaches up, towards the bedside table, reaching around for the lube. Dorian grabs it, sitting back, struggling to keep his eyes open with each stroke of his cock. “Cullen, you have to actually let me… _Kaffas_ … If you keep that up, I’ll cum before we get any further.”

Cullen smirks, but releases Dorian after one more stroke of his thumb against his tip, both hands now above his head. He licks his lips, anticipation making his body tense slightly as he hears the clicks of the lube being opened and closed, lifting his head to watch. Dorian was beautiful between his legs, even if his focus was currently on lubing his fingers. The hand between his legs returns, teasing at his entrance, circling slowly until Dorian pushes it in.

Dorian moves his finger slowly, carefully, watching as Cullen’s head drops back down and his back arches. Dorian’s free hand slides up Cullen’s side, his head dropping down momentarily to run his tongue over the tip of Cullen’s cock, drawing a moan from the man. He breaches Cullen with a second finger, spreading them, squeezing Cullen’s side. “Is this okay?” Dorian asks gently, his gaze met by glazed eyes, and a nod. Dorian smirks, lifting Cullen’s leg, biting at the inside of the thigh. “Almost there, amatus.”

“Dorian, if you don’t fuck me…”

“Believe me, amatus, I _will_ fuck you.” Dorian purrs, pressing his fingers deeper, smirking as Cullen almost shouts with the brush of his sweet spot. “And you _will_ be loud.”

“Y-Yes, love…” Cullen whimpers, precum spilling from him, whining at the loss of Dorian’s fingers. He shuffles down the bed when asked to do so, watching Dorian reach for a condom and put it on.

“Stop word?” Dorian moves above Cullen, his hands either side of his head.

“Lightning.” Cullen confirms, hands coming up to Dorian’s shoulders, one sliding into his hair. “To be used when I want to stop, or something feels wrong.”

Dorian smiles, and kisses Cullen’s lips briefly, a hand moving down to hold himself. Dorian guides himself in slowly, his hand returning to its place beside Cullen’s head, waiting patiently as the man adjusts. One of Cullen’s legs drapes over his waist, Dorian reaching back to hold it, lowering himself down onto his elbow as he starts to move inside his lover.

Cullen’s back arches, the hand in Dorian’s hair tugging lightly, his head tilting to allow Dorian access to his throat. Dorian starts kissing along Cullen’s jaw, punctuating each soft kiss with a thrust of his hips, grinning when Cullen curses under his breath. Cullen groans at the long stroke of Dorian’s tongue against his throat, tightening his grip in the man’s hair when he bites at the crevice between his throat and his shoulder, pushing his hips back to meet Dorian’s thrusts.

Sex, Dorian found, was one of the best stress reliefs ever to have blessed man kind. Especially as he felt the tension of the last four days wash from Cullen’s body, and the man submit himself to Dorian. Slowly, Dorian pushed himself up again, holding himself above Cullen, an arm reaching back to push one of Cullen’s legs towards his chest. The angle allowed for Dorian to push deeper into the man, brushing against Cullen’s sweet spot once again, causing the man to shudder and moan loudly underneath him. Keeping the angle, Dorian builds his pace, adjusting Cullen’s leg and placing it over his shoulder to free his hand.

Cullen thrust his hips back to meet Dorian’s pace, the hand previously in Dorian’s hair now gripping his bicep, the other hand tugging on his own hair, lost in the act of sex and drawing close to his finish. Cullen opens his eyes briefly, watching Dorian above him, eyes closed and face the very definition of orgasmic. Dorian’s hair was ruffled, a mess, his mouth hanging open as moans slip past his lips. The hand on Dorian’s bicep squeezes, and scratches lightly, receiving a sharp thrust in return. A moan of Cullen’s name is finally enough to push Cullen over the edge, gasping and arching as he spills over his stomach, nothing more than bated breath pushing out of his body as Dorian keeps up his thrusts.

It doesn’t take long before Dorian is joining Cullen, throwing his head back, chanting Cullen’s name like a prayer as he cums. His hips slow to an eventual stop, releasing Cullen’s leg, holding himself above Cullen as he catches his breath. Slowly, he pulls out, taking the condom off and disposing of it, fetching a cloth from the bathroom to clean his lover up. Once clean and settled, Dorian presses his lips to Cullen’s, brushing his fingers through the man’s hair. “You look a lot better, amatus.”

“You mean because I’ve just been fucked to the Void and back?” Cullen teases, laughing lightly, pulling Dorian against him and wrapping his arms around him.

“If you must put it that way, then yes.” Dorian hums, allowing himself to be held by Cullen, nuzzling into the man’s neck, resting his hand on Cullen’s chest.

“You would have said the same thing in my position.” Cullen kisses the top of Dorian’s head, relaxing. “Dorian?”

“Yes, amatus?”

“You’ve started saying that word a lot, recently. Amatus. I know what it means.” Cullen looks down at Dorian, Dorian looking up at him in surprise. “I’m flattered.”

“You’re… flattered?” Dorian pushes himself up slightly, looking down at Cullen in confusion.

“Yes. I haven’t said this yet, but I want you to know that I love you, Dorian, and I’m so grateful for everything you do for me.”

Dorian blinks, trying to process what Cullen had just said, staring at the man.

“You don’t have to say it back, yet. I’ll wait until you’re ready, but it’s true. Please don’t forget it.”

Dorian clears his throat, and lays back down, falling silent. After several long moments, he cuddles closer to Cullen. “I love you, too.”

Cullen simply smiles, his arm wrapping tighter around Dorian, both men drifting off to sleep.


End file.
